


burn into the sun

by dragonlights



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, Stardust AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-07 04:48:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1885704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonlights/pseuds/dragonlights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>where others have failed before him, Prince Phillip embarks on a journey to retrieve a bewitched pendant, in order to become the future king. The key to the throne lies beyond the wall, and he must cross the wall and venture to the enchanted realm to find it. A fallen star will lead him to his success, but a curse looms far behind with the promise of danger from vengeful fairies chasing after the star.</p><p>A Stardust inspired AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. under the same sun

**Author's Note:**

> \+ this has been in the works since last year. and the goal was to start the third chapter before posting the first part. however, i'm a bit antsy and i've decided to post this now before ouat gets even more crazier. i have stopped watching the show but the potential for phillip/aurora is just too much, which is what inspired me to write this. this is also dedicated to my little sister, who has urged me to write her favorite couple.
> 
> \+ it can basically be deemed as a twist to ouat's sleeping beauty arc.

 

* * *

 

 

_the dreams_

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

The lovers dance across the meadow beneath the dark starless night sky. 

 

His hand is wrapped around her waist, resting on her back, and her hand is placed on his shoulder. He can feel her flutter before him, when their fingers come together, with their hands intertwined. His hand in hers and hers in his, allow the couple with two different hearts to beat together as one.

 

They move effortlessly as one entity. Both of them swaying to the song of nightingales and owls, with the faint hum of summer cicadas and the chitter of crickets chirping in the background. Joining the music, fireflies begin to surround them and glow luminously in the dark. He holds her close to him, and they both go for a leap. Soaring across the sky and landing brilliantly.

 

He withdraws his hand from her back and spins her around. She twirls and twirls, radiating in the night, like the prominent north star twinkling and dancing in the sky to guide the sailors home.

 

He hears metal clink and looks up to see mischief twinkle in his partner's eyes. She retracts her hand from his, hiding it behind her back, while the other waves a thin saber in the air. 

 

The grin on his face is big, and he draws out his own rapier from its sheath, accepting her challenge to continue with the dance of steel.

 

She lunges first, and he jumps back gracefully. He feigns a jab at her right side, and she mirrors his actions with his left. He strikes towards her chest, where she's quick to her defense, hitting his sword. Then he slinks his rapier to the left, and her saber blocks it, and so he swings the thin blade to his right. Her saber fends it off again. So the swords clink together for a while longer. With their feet moving back and forth, the pair tries to dodge each other's blows. 

 

The fireflies have flown away from the challenging couple, shining brightly up in the sky, where they can't be harmed. They watch the lovers from above and flutter about crazily. The other nightly creatures still sing along with the rhythm of the swords, and the pair continues with their fencing.

 

The prince slowly moves away from his earlier position, moving in to her side. He continues to sway his sword back and forth at her blade, proceeding carefully not to harm her. He's finally close enough to her that he grabs her from the back by surprise.

 

She's in for a dip, tilted in his arms. Her eyes flutter up at him before it fixate towards something in the far distance. Her whole demeanor shifts into something resembling fear, and her saber is pointed up, directed towards the thing lurking behind him. "Save me," she whispers and then falls limp in his arms.

 

He hears the clatter of her sword, and then his heart beats rapidly, in a short panicked frenzy. She weighs him down, and he's afraid he can't support her anymore. He tries to continue hoisting her up though, but it's almost futile. He glances down forlornly, causing his eyes to trail down to her hair, where it flows endlessly into the lake.

 

In the lake, her hair glistens beautifully. He revels at the simple beauty of the lake that reminds him of the pale girl in his arms. However, he stiffens up when he sees the reflection of the large beast behind setting the forest on fire.

 

The sky is engulfed in bright orange flames and a pulsating, sweltering heat. It overpowers the more temperate climate of the meadow and swallows up everything, incinerating the forests to ash. 

 

He wakes up with a jolt.

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

_the request_

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

"My darling child, promise me." 

 

"I promise, mother," the sun-kissed child whispers. She reassures her mother by taking her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

 

Her father frowns and looks at his daughter squarely in the eye. "Princess, this is no joking matter. It is a simple request."

 

"I know, father," the princess says defiantly. "I won't do it again, I swear."

 

"No, you don't. There is treason amongst these walls, and it is a looming threat to your fragile well being. If you dare defy me and wander around the kingdom on your own any longer, the damage done would be irreparable. Can you imagine what could possibly transpire in those little trivial venturing of yours?" 

 

The princess' lips quirk downward and part to protest, "Father, I—"

 

" _'Rora_." The kingly voice warned her. The sound of her name reverberates through the room. "Please. Your well being is essential to this kingdom, and one day this kingdom shall be yours to rule." He watches as the princess recoils at his words, her head slightly bent down away from his gaze. "The fate of the kingdom does not lie only in my hands, but in yours too. And I am not asking much of you, Aurora. I just simply request it of you to cease your whimsical wanderings."

 

Her head remains downcast, and her eyes nearly threaten to rise to meet the king's. It instead falls to view the knights flocked by the door, bowing their steel heads, sworn to their duty. Every word is heard by them but ignored to create the illusion of privacy. Shame and embarrassment flood through the princess, reddening the tips of her ears. Her voice grows ready to reply with another flippant, _I know,_ when suddenly the girl's ill-mannered attempts are quickly silenced by the sound of the queen. 

 

"Darling child, your father is right. The fairies are out there...they can be anywhere, and we are powerless against them. Please do as your father, the king says." her mother says soothingly, dissipating the young princess' fiery temper.

 

"Fine," the sun-kissed child drawls defeated, "I promise to fulfill your request,  _your grace_." She picks up the ends of her skirts, and dips down into a curtsy before turning away from her father.

 

 

 

 

In her chambers, she forcefully pushes apart the curtains to reveal the landscape outside her window. A forlorn sigh falls from her lips at the sight of the citizens bustling through the streets. She longs to run into the vast green forests that intersects the arid, dry desert of the capital, but in her current situation, her desires cannot be fulfilled. She is confined in the walls of the castle for all of eternity until the danger clears. _But how long will it take before that time finally comes?_

 

Her thoughts are interrupted by a shuffling noise, and so she slowly stumbles away from the window in a cautious manner.

 

"Princess," a feminine octave filters into the room, followed by fingertips appearing on the window pane. 

 

Panicking, the sun-kissed child whips her head around, scanning furiously for a weapon to defend herself with. She hastily picks up a brush from the ground and clutches it tightly in her hand. She positions it into a more threatening stance when the hands on the window sill prop up to reveal the face of the intruder.

 

"Who—who are you?" The princess queries, trying her best not to quake in fright. Her eyes roam over the intruder; an older lady in a dark cloak with urgency coated in her large murky eyes.

 

"A warning," the lady ominously states as she climbs into the room. There's more to say, but the stranger hesitates when her eyes sweep over the brush clutched in the princesses' hand. Her eyes dance with mirth for a split second before it disperses back into something more serious. "I've come as a warning to warn you that the castle has been under attack. So you should leave for your own safety."

 

"Wait, what?" The princess frowns, eyebrows furrowed. "Who are we being attacked by?" 

 

A dead silence drops into the room. A beat, then two, and on the third, the princess' heart staggers. "A familiar adversary in the form of three..."

 

Her eyes begin to water in fear and sadness and despair at the stranger's words. "No! No! My birthday isn't until next week, the curse...and them...They are not supposed to come until then!" the sun princess screeches, hurling the brush across the room and plopping down to the floor, forming a pool of cloth huddled at her feet. 

 

"You need to go, Princess Aurora. There's not much time left."

 

The little princess vehemently shakes her head, "No. Not without my mother and father. I can't leave them."

 

"You must! It would be want they want," the lady returns. "It would be your father's request."

 

The princess of the sands freezes at the last word. She thinks she understands now. Her parents were trying to _warn_ her. With this new information, she makes up her mind without a second thought and flees outside the door and into the tunnels of the castle's secret passageway. 

 

The sun-kissed child wipes away her tears and runs away into the sea of people. The curious princess leaves behind her home, her family, and her curse. She got her wish. She is free.

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

  

_the initiation_

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

The blood falls from his hand freely into the chalice full of water. The dark red droplets mix quickly, dissipating the clear liquid with a frenzy of reds.

 

He tilts his hand away from the chalice and keeps the blood subsided in the cut implanted on his palm. As the priest recites his sermon over the smallest of flames that boils the contents of the chalice, he motions for the monarch to come closer. The holy man pours the liquid remains of the chalice into the goblet. He then signals the young monarch to do his share. The royal heir places his blood-soaked hand into the goblet and feels his insides churn with fervor. 

 

His eyes burned with a blinding light. He could only make out a series of vignettes of his impending quest. A  _star_ , a  _creek_ , a  _maiden_  flooded his line of sight. It was followed by the wrath of a few wicked fairies, the face of a wary traveler, and the threat of a looming danger that ended with a glowing golden pendant. It struck the now overwhelmed princeling so hard, that he nearly stumbled back and collided with the priest.

 

"What did you see, boy?" 

 

The boy bristled at the sudden sound and harsh light welcoming him back to the bitter reality. He shook off his initial excitement and glanced at the other man seated in the room, crowned in all his glory. He stared past the superior power in a trance and answered the holy man's question from what he could remember. "A star...the fairies..."

 

"But what is it that you are after?" thundered a regal voice. 

 

If the prince had seen the man's face, — if his sanguine orbs hadn't traveled across the man's intense gaze, — he would've seen the concern crinkled in the elder's ageless eyes at the insinuation of the wicked fairies. The concern was meant for the boy and the concern was meant for the kingdom. However, the boy missed this sentiment. He snapped at the thunderous voice intercepting his query, with his too kind and innocent eyes only returning to find the hardened gaze of the king. 

 

"The pendant," the prince started, his eyes locked on his father's. "I am to find the pendant of death."

 

Wordlessly, the man stood up with a lingering stare at the boy, and then he swiftly turned and walked out of the chapel. 

 

The princeling remained with the priest, who was emptying the goblet of its contents. The royal boy watches emptily, with a question on his mind. "What of this star and the fairies?"

 

The priest slowly turns away from his work and faces the boy. "Stars, falling stars are a sign of luck. They are the essence of hope and are beings of the phenomenal. With the vision of one, crossing paths with this star will definitely ensure your chances of surviving the quest. It will raise the stakes for you and your enemies and the severity of your journey. So, don't be as stupid as to pass the opportunity, boy. Seize the star once you find it, for it will be the epitome of hope in a time of peril. And your kingdom will definitely need it for peril shall always fall."

 

The prince takes this in and nods, "Okay. So, the star is the key to the pendant of death, which makes it essential that I find it."

 

"Exactly. The star will lead you to the pendant, and with capturing the star and bringing it home, you will do your father proud," the priest concludes. The boy's eyes twinkle brightly and then take on a darker shade. He gulps nervously as he treads on to the next important topic he recalls. "And the fairies? They're going to be a threat to my life, aren't they?"

 

"I fear so, your majesty."

 

The boy maintains a straight face, blocking all the emotions from showing on his face. With this guarded expression, he promptly makes his way towards the door. "I better make preparations," he murmurs silently on his way out. 

 

"May the gods have mercy," the priest prays after the princeling boy, as his words ascend into the air.

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

_the chivalrous_

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Prince Phillip takes a quick glance back to his home. He can see his father's stern frame with his dark cobalt eyes regarding him with expectancy as he sends Phillip off away on his journey. 

 

There is no staff out from the estate here to greet the young lad, offering him any sort of condolences, optimism, or farewells. Phillip feels disappointed that no one was willing to visit him before he leaves, but he knows that if one were to try to offer him any form of sentiment, his father would very well condemn the defying person to eternal poverty.

 

For a long time, Phillip wished for one of his brothers to return to retrieve the throne before it was his turn to reign. Phillip had never starved for the throne like those who preceded him. He cared more for fighting and defending his country, rather than just idly sitting by and throwing demands at people acting under false pretenses, when he could be the one taking action with his fellow citizens. However, his hopes were met with disappointment as he grew to be of age for the initiation quest that had started to be shaped and planned the year prior. It was decreed that whoever returned alive with the quest completed shall be the one who succeeded and inherits King Hubert's throne, which was originally meant for the eldest prince, who never returned from the quest. 

 

At the age of eleven, Phillip watched his eldest brother hobble off on a quest to retrieve the feather of a phoenix to prove his worthiness of a king fit to rule the kingdom. Easily, this trip was rivaled by the second eldest prince, believing that he was his father's favorite son, therefore the kingdom shall fall into his hands in the impending months. The king denied the boy's claim altogether, and that enraged the boy second to the throne. He sought out the quest himself and met up with the eldest brother. It was said that he handed the eldest prince a canteen of water as they traveled the hot, sunny lands. The older boy passed out and died from the poison laced in his drink. His body was found by a traveler passing through. The other boy was still off completing the quest, and no one ever saw him again in years. 

 

The third boy to the throne had been sent on his quest roughly two years ago, when he was around Phillip's current age. His quest had been to search for the cosmic twinkle that bewitched the woods, and after venturing through those woods, he hadn't returned since. Rumours fled about, claiming that the third boy had been abducted by the mystical being lurking in the woods, so the people presumed the royal boy as dead. With all these failed journeys, the king hardened into a more demanding figure as he grew disappointed with his sons. To redeem the reputation of the monarchs of the kingdom, the king hastily shaped his immediate children up for slaughter, one by one, in order to find a suitable successor for the throne. His faith in the remaining princes were very slim, but he will not accept any more humiliation through slacking off or sheer wiles of fear or any other irrational weaknesses. Thus, hospitality before the quest is denied from Phillip. The king believes the support softens and weakens the princes, therefore he forbids it.

 

Tensing up beneath the young prince, his steed stiffens in trepidation. The notion tears Prince Phillip away from his reverie, and he gives his horse all of his attention. From the corners of his eyes, he can see that they're on the main road, several miles away from the kingdom, and heading towards the main trading ports. Phillip's horse sniffs and huffs in suspicion at the quick rustling of the trees, and the young prince softly runs his fingers through the steed's rich silver mane, to calm her nerves.

 

He tugs on the reigns after a couple minutes with his other hand, trying to get the steed to move forward, but she stubbornly refuses. He sighs and tries again. The horse still does not budge. 

 

"What's the matter?" he questions.

 

The mare does not reply, but her ears perk up in gesture.

 

Phillip frowns, merely confused, and repositions his hand onto the hilt of his sword. 

 

"Don't you dare, son." hisses a rough, scratchy voice, followed by the sharp edge of steel pressed against the young prince's throat. The royal fidgets slightly to see men in scraps of dark ragged clothing surround him.  _Bandits._ What rotten luck. 

 

"You're looking for money?" Phillip starts, nonchalantly. Swallowing up his hope and fear and nervousness, he gestures to his get-up and his light satchel, hanging limply beside the steed. "I don't got a lot on me," he asserts, feigning the voice of a semi-educated commoner. "My father's a squire to a lord of a large estate while I'm just a lonesome traveler who hunts things," he lies easily, rambling incessantly, while he tries to figure out a way to escape. "I can take you to my father's home, if you'd like, but let me assure you,  _gentlemen_ , it's a very long journey from here." 

 

A small smile creeps up onto the faces of the vagabonds at being called gentlemen. The leader of the crew chuckles darkly with his grip on the blade tighter than before, yet unmoving. None of the men are undeterred by Phillip's offering, though. "No need for all that, boy. We're in no need for your worthless pennies. We're in need of transport; we want your horse."

 

"My horse?" Phillip looks shocked, but he shakes his head furiously. "No! She's my horse, you can't take her. I need her!" 

 

"Ah, but son, I wasn't asking for your permission." The blade inches closer to his skin, drawing blood, and his steed neighs loudly through the tension. Phillip winces at the graze and nervously glances around at the bandits surrounding him. One of them returns his glance with a humorous glint in his eye, while two others converse with each other and remain alert, along with another person tampering around with a round instrument, and another idly using his sword to draw circles in the dirt. "Fine! Fine! If you need her that much, then I guess I could strike you a deal," Phillip relents with a plan in mind.

 

The leader scoffs, removing the blade from Phillip's throat, and moves to look at him, face to face, "A deal?" 

 

"Yeah," he shrugs, "My horse, for a compass."

 

The man sneers, "What would you need with a thief's broken compass?" The bandit presents the boy with a small box and flips open the thick black case. Inside lay a long deep scratch cracked amongst the glass, but the needle remains intact, faithfully pointing north. 

 

"I'm a traveler," Phillip reasons, "and a compass points to the stars, and stars lead lonesome travelers to their destination." 

 

He regards the vagabond closely as the man contemplates and calculates. "Alright, boy, here." The leader of the bandits hands over the compass to Phillip, and Phillip extends his hand to take the instrument, suddenly gripping the man's hand, firmly and tightly. He can hear the strong bones of the man crack, so Phillip proceeds to twist it swiftly, earning a strained grunt from him. "Don't you dare threaten me again, old man," he murmurs, before releasing the older man out of his painful grasp. The ends of his lips curl up mockingly when he blatantly speaks up, loudly and clearly for everyone to hear. "Such a pleasure doing business with you all, I shall bid you all adieu." 

 

Phillip slips off of the mare with ease and retrieves his belongings off of the horse. He slings his things across his shoulders, slightly crouching down, afterwards, to pet his mare behind the ears. "I'll come back for you," he whispers, and then steps away. He withdraws his saber, quickly sensing the men around him tense up.  Phillip simply waves it in the air and airily grins at the bandits, "Let's hope we don't ever cross paths again, for both our sakes."

 

The bandits gruffly spit at the ground in response. With their leader mounting on his horse, the bandits follow suit. Phillip quickly braves a glance at the bandits, and he can see his mare in the back being dragged forlornly along with them. He then flips open the compass, watching the needle spin and point north, away from the trading ports road and to the woods, where he knows is where the wall lies. There's a small pathway marked in the woods that leads to the wall, which is the gateway to the nether realms of dust and sand. 'It makes sense,' he figures, 'that the star would be found in the nether realms where the fairies roam and sprinkle dust and sparkly sand everywhere.' He ventures forward into the woods until he makes it to the vast stone wall.

 

 

At the foot of the stone wall, a small old footman sits with a long cane to guard the small open archway, serving as an entrance to the nether realms. A guard was posted at the wall ever since the witches and fairies alike over in the nether realms have begun waging magic wars with one another, making the area a dangerous place to cross. Fearing that dark magic still lingers in the sacred battlefield near the border of King Hubert's kingdom to the nether realms, the guard is there to stop troublesome magicians and druids from crossing over for selfish purposes. The old footman warily stares up at Phillip. "You wish to cross the border?"

 

Phillip nods.

 

The old footman stands up and regards the princeling in contempt. "Well too bad! It's not safe for you out there, and it's my duty to steer you from it," the old footman wheezes, raising his elongated stick up to the sky. He merely frowns when he sees Phillip pointing his sword at him. "Your royal highness," the elderly man splutters, "I still cannot let you pass."

 

Irritation seeps through the young prince, and he raises his eyebrow to question. The guard shakes his head, "Your father, the king was the same way and so was your brother. They threatened me with the tip of their swords, and let me tell you, that is no way to be granted with admittance."

 

The young prince nearly wanted to ask which brother could he be referring to, but Phillip knew that that wasted time, and time was not a luxury he had.  So, he put his sword back in its sheath, and shrugged. "Alright sir, I assure you, I have no intentions to run you through with a sword, ever. And I am not afraid of what lies beyond this wall, so surely you will let me through, right?"

 

"Ah, so chivalry isn't dead after all," the guard smiles bemusedly. He sticks his cane firmly to the ground, afterwards, and takes on a more serious expression. "But I'm sorry, no."

 

A strangled cry of frustration is released from the young monarch, whose mind begins to whir into action. Impulsively, Phillip withdraws his sword again, and hurls it over the wall. It flies high up into the air, a silver sliver in the night sky, and stretches over onto the other side of the wall. The guard stumbles back, startled and moves to take a better look.

 

With this distraction, the prince takes this opportunity to jump over to the nether realms through the small opening of the wall and runs off after his sword. He can hear the old footman yell out after him, warning him of the danger, but Phillip is much too proud to care.

 

He recalls seeing his sword fall near a field of large apple trees. However, as he approaches the area, he does not see any incandescent gleam glow white in the dark. He sighs then, ready to lean up against a tree and sleep, when he feels the tip of a saber —  _his sword!_  he recognizes — at his throat, slightly sliding past his now dry cut.

 

"Not again," he mutters under his breath at the situation he finds himself in.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. her kiss a deathly wish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \+ this is dedicated to my little sister! her birthday is today and this is her gift. (: but i hope all of you guys enjoy because this is where it gets good. i would love to hear your thoughts and theories so don't be afraid to comment/review!

 

 

* * *

 

 

_the collision_

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

Dusk falls over the sky so swiftly and so quickly like velvet curtains dropping and draping over the stage at the end of a performance. The princess direly wishes she was home now, preparing for the festivities of her birth and attending to her royal duties. She's not used to being exposed to the outside world at all, but she's enjoyed the sights and the animals and the vast greenness that graces the forests during the day. The experience of it all is a lot more exciting than her favorite gardens at the palace. Unfortunately, her fixation on nature does not deter her from despising the night more than anything.

 

The night consists of her fears, of the darkness that will render her body frail and fragile. The thought of it clouding her home and washing away the light and sun of her kingdom dredges the dread and fear that looms over her existence. She's heard the prophecy many times. No matter how hard she wants to believe it to be untrue, or that there shall be a way to elude it, she can't shake the feeling that the wicked fairies shall find their way back to her. 

 

Hearing a  _whoosh!_ , Princess Aurora tilts her head up with her vision positioned above skyward. She's frazzled at the sight of something glistening through the sky at such a rapid speed racing down towards her. The princess hastily changes her course of action, to move out of the way. She hears a clatter then, dropping down right before her. Standing straight up with the hilt standing on top, the brilliant glow of steel captures the attention of Aurora and her amazement. She rushes over to the saber and pulls it out of the grass, weighing it and balancing it in her arms.

 

Footsteps instantly follow, and she runs quietly to hide behind a tree, clutching the weapon she had just found to her chest. She watches as the figure scrambles around as if searching for something, and then he tiredly attempts to lean up against  _her_  tree. She takes this moment to seize the silhouette, afraid that he might harm her. 

 

She slinks in front of the tree and wraps an arm around the stranger's neck. Her other arm follows suit and presses the blade up against his throat and the flat side of the metal props up his chin. She hears the man mutter something incoherently, but she's distracted by the red feather of his hat tickling her nose. The feather makes her want to sneeze. She tries to keep it in though. She tries to maneuver both of them towards the tree where she plans to tie him up and interrogate him.

 

However, the task is extremely difficult since the man is much larger than her in height and most definitely stronger. He's also quite stubborn too, for the man would not budge and stood his ground.  She feels arms wrap around her waist, and before she can even react, the man throws her over and tackles her to the grass. 

 

"Let go of me!" The princess exclaims, as she writhes beneath the stranger, trying to shake his hands off her wrists. "Please," she begs, "Let me go! Get off of me!"

 

The stranger does not listen to her at all. His dark eyes peer down at her, regarding her warily. "Who are you?" he questions.

 

She glares at him angrily, but the feather of his hat brushes her face again. She's momentarily distracted by a faint strange whirring noise, and then her attention is reverted back to the red feather where she feels a tickle form within her nose. Although she tries desperately to hold in her sneeze, it does not take, and a high-pitched  _a_ _choo_ _!_  is released from the little princess. 

 

She watches as the man scrambles back at her expulsion,  and she deems this circumstance as an opportune moment to escape. As she bounces up on to her feet, her eyes travel to the unfamiliar individual. She can not make out his form in the dark, though she sees that he is reunited with the sword.  He carries the blade efficiently, much better than she did, obviously implying that the sword was his. 

 

Her feet takes her away from the stranger, while her thoughts race around crazily, trying to reason with herself what the best course of action would be. Aurora realizes that running, unarmed, against a man is utterly useless. She can't outrun someone larger and stronger than her. And with a weapon in his hand, she's more than likely to die at his hands before the night is over. The princess racks her brain desperately for a solution. After constant scrutiny, an answer comes in the form of a silver chain, dangling from her dress. 

 

Aurora stops a good distance away from the strange man. She frantically pulls the silver chain out from  her lilac dress and wraps half of it around her arm, while swinging the other half around in the air. The princess watches and waits for the man to start coming after her, and when she sees him approaching, she aims the chain towards the unfamiliar individual. It whips out towards the stranger's ankle, sliding up towards his waist and slams him up against a tree with such intensity that she can hear a loud  _oof!_  sound against the bark.

 

The princess follows the chain to the tree and the man tied to it. She unwraps the remaining pieces of the chain from her wrist and wraps them around the stranger and the tree to make it much harder for the man to escape. He is currently slumped up against the tree trunk, unconscious. His sword rests a few feet beside him, and she hears the strange whirring sound return. Her mind is exhausted and overwhelmed, with part of her wanting to figure out what the peculiar noise is. Instead, she just settles herself into believing that she's become a bit demented to the hysterical affairs of the day. 

 

Aurora feels horrible to what has happened to the stranger, but she justifies her actions through fear and paranoia on an attempt on her life. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_the fallen_

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

Wings ceased to flutter as the growing winds of death swept into the air. Most were lifeless,  incinerating  into dust when the essence of life escaped the small bodies of the fae, while some wings were retracted for the remaining fairies to hide amongst the elves and the common civilians. Many of those who still remained, grew bitter and angry and betrayed. They mourned for their kin and swore a cruel form of vengeance against the petty humans who pursued their ilk. More faerie blood was shed for the radical actions committed to threaten the kingdom.

 

And then there were three. Three sorrowful fairies, who have watched their kind been wronged and murdered for a misunderstood cause, felt the fury embedded in their skin grow stronger. Fury consumed everything, dictating every thought, every action, every emotion.

 

Suddenly plummeting out of the clear night sky fell their solution. A sparkly silver thing dropped from the cosmos and collided with the dreary maiden traversing the realms. She was the answer to all their problems. She, the dreary maiden with the stars twinkling out of her wavy hair and with the sunlight shimmering from her skin, casted a shadow of constellations in the form of hope and love and triumph and survival all glowing softly from her soul. She is the essence of dawn, of new beginnings, of the faint morning light peaking and living through the previous cruel darkness of the night. 

 

The ends of the fae's mouth twitches up into smirk at the sight. Her feet is lifted up from the ground, floating excitedly with tendrils of fairy dust scattered around behind her. "Sisters!" She claps her hands together to wake them up. 

 

Her fellow fairies stir slowly at the noise. "Flora, please—"

 

"No, no! Fauna, I have found her!" Flora, the elder fairy adorned in red exclaimed. She points at the glowing image floating near the window. 

 

The mirage contained only vague shapes and colors outlining the persons' silhouettes. A bright starlight yellow outline circles a petite frame; the pure source for fairy Flora's excitement. The glimmering color shined against the dark of the night scenery in the mirage, drawing its attention towards the radiating energy pulsating from within the maiden. Her colors illuminate those who has been blessed with her proximity, shedding some color onto her acquainted silhouette. 

 

Fauna picked up the ends of her shabby green dress and warily flew over towards the commotion. Merryweather followed too, gasping at the opportunity splayed at their fingertips.

 

"It—it's her! The lost princess of the suns and stars — the  dawn." Merryweather identified through eyes full of awe. "She's our only hope..."

 

"Her sacrifice is our only hope," Fauna corrected, "to a new beginning." Her eyes were blazing with energy.

 

"And a sacrifice she shall get," Flora said solemnly. The three fairies peer out at the mirage, studying and deciding on how to approach the princess to achieve their means.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_the encounter_

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

Phillip woke up to the sound of the birds and the bees. An incessant noise of buzzing and chirping flowed around him, together with the blinding morning light. His body felt sore and tied up, barely able to recall the affairs from the previous night.  

 

None of it mattered though. All that mattered was that Phillip kept going to complete his quest once and for all. His quest was bound to the kingdom, and to him, the fate of the kingdom was a top priority. Needless to say, it was hard to continue on the journey when he was unfortunately stuck to a tree. 

 

The chain, previously wrapped loosely around his waist, had dropped down to his ankles  when he stood up. Now, he couldn't get his foot free of the chain, as it kept his feet tied up to the tree. No matter how many times and how hard he tried to tug away from the metal string, it did not loosen. Therefore, he shrank down a bit, withdrawing his sword as he did so, and attempted to cut the chain loose. Yet, that approach failed as well.

 

_The damned chain!_  Phillip cursed inwardly. It must be charmed or something, for it to resist his stainless finest steel. 

 

A rustle from the east startled the young prince from his reverie, as his trained and sensitive ears grew alert, picking up on the small animal that appeared to stare in front of him. Phillip found his chance. 

 

He stared at the little rabbit, while it stared back wide eyed at him. Phillip beckoned for the small furry creature to come forward, but it just glanced warily at him. He really did wish he had a nice juicy carrot to offer the rodent, but he was never that lucky. All he had was his wit, charm, and patience, which were quickly wearing thin on him. 

 

The small rabbit took a tentative hop forward towards Phillip and Phillip felt triumph wash over him. The rabbit was a little curious, which definitely helped in his favor. He watched as the rabbit hopped over and tripped over the string, to which the string latched onto the rabbit's leg. The rabbit continued to move, suddenly feeling the tug on its foot. The small creature figured the only option to escape was to race around the tree to free its foot from the chain, but it unravelled and untied Phillip instead. 

 

After the rabbit began to settle down, sadly anchored to the tree, the young princeling bent over and helped the poor creature. He picked up the chain and quickly wrapped it around his wrist, releasing the rabbit from the string and unbundling the string from the tree. Without anything holding it back, the rabbit rapidly bounced away.

 

Phillip picked up his sword and sheathed it. He began to roam the woods to determine where to go. 

 

The melodic sound of singing filled the air, as he ventured deeper into the trees. The voice was so high and beautiful, serenading to life all around the light that graced the skies, and he could just feel himself entranced under the song. 

 

Birds flew wildly in the direction of the wondrous noise, and Phillip followed them. He could see flowers blooming and animals rushing towards the creek. The melody was definitely clearer now, and the singer appeared as well, swaying to her song with the breeze flowing around her.

 

He could only see the maiden's back, and her singing softened and stopped to be replaced by a harmonious hum. She was graceful with every step she took, with her feet splashing in the water. As she turned around to return to land, everything ceased. The music, the grace, the animals, and the ease all dissipated at the sight of him.

 

The girl stood, frozen. She stared blankly at him, her eyes wide — as wide as the rabbit's were. Her mouth was slightly parted, and her cheeks were flushed. She opened and closed her mouth, looking for something to say, but all her thoughts came out empty.

 

"I'm so—" Phillip abruptly cleared his throat to strengthen his voice, "I'm so sorry if I have intruded! I am so sorry for interrupting you from your...well si— lovely singing." He could feel his insides churn at the sight of the pretty maiden.

 

She had flawless golden copper curls cascading down her back. She clutched her lilac shawl close to her chest, peering at him curiously. Her blue eyes narrowed then when she demanded, "Who are you?"

 

"I—" he was quick to respond but faltered altogether when he registered the harsh tone to her voice. "You're so derisive towards me. Is there a reason for such treatment?"

 

Her expression softened a bit, but certain features remained sharp and tense. "I don't know if you are to be trusted."

 

Phillip nodded in understanding. Her actions towards him acted out of mistrust is a very reasonable explanation. "I assure you, I can be trusted."

 

She nods and then turns away from him to trek back to the stream. 

 

"Wait! I don't even know your name," he blurted out, eagerly. He feels slightly embarrassed, but he simply breaks into a grin and affirms, "You know, as a token of trust."

 

The girl stops, as if calculating on how to proceed. Her eyes blaze when her bright blue eyes turn to stare at him suddenly. "I t's Rose," she whispers at first, which grows louder and clearer once all the words fall from her lips. "Lady Rosalie of Avion," she reiterates confidently. After gauging his reaction, she arches an eyebrow in return, waiting for him to complete their little exchange.

 

He offers a warm smile, deciding how to proceed.  Should he reveal who he truly is, or should he lie to protect his identity? His eyes skim over her again and he takes notice of her clothes for the first time, causing his eyebrows to draw together in confusion. For a common lady, the fabrics of Rosalie seemed too nice, and he's never seen any silk as exotic and fine like that aside from the dresses and robes of royal elites.

 

"Do those clothes actually belong to you?" Phillip questions, feeling albeit awkward for asking, but he really needed to know in order to make sure she wasn't hiding anything from him.

 

He noted her shoulders tense up suddenly. Fear flickered over her face briefly, he could've sworn, but within a blink of an eye, her face returned to that placid nonchalant demeanor. "Why do you ask?" she prodded, her gaze darting towards him again and then back to the ground.

 

"I–Well, the cloth...it looks expensive, you know? Like something the monarchs wear...?" 

 

Her breath caught in her throat with fear, definitely fear, coating her irises. She drew in a deep breath and pleaded with him, "Please! Please don't kill me! Don't take me in. I–I just needed to run away because of the danger I'm in..." Sobs came in and tears streamed down her cheeks as her words became incoherent. "'e's gonna kill me, gonna kill me, please. I can't go, I just can't."

 

"Whoa," Phillip started, cautiously walking towards her, "I'm sorry. I'm sure there's a good reason why you've stolen these clothes, but who're you running from? What danger?"

 

"An arranged marriage," Rosalie explains hurriedly, "I was supposed to marry this man but I couldn't. I'm an only child and it's my duty to my family. But this man...he's bad. You can see it in his eyes. It was inevitable that he'll come after me, and I just–I just, I couldn't condemn myself to that fate." She stopped to breathe and rubbed her eyes, before she continued. "And then there was a delivery full of silk enroute to the kingdom, and it was the perfect opportunity for me to change and hide from him...and so I took what I needed without anyone else knowing." 

 

"So...you're a thief?"

 

"That depends, are you going to turn me in?" she beckons, her head tilted sullenly yet curiously to the side.

 

His mind was racing as he grew torn. By law, the girl should be punished for stealing from the court, yet the reasons were completely understandable. He could relate to her, for he was to be wed to a mere stranger in the years following if he were to return from his quest. He's not sure if his fiancée was kind, pretty, or courteous, or if she would be vain, corrupted, and vile. And the royals were wealthy enough to get and replace whatever they should want, so missing stolen silks should not mean much to the noble.

 

"You have nothing to worry about, Rose," he assured her, "I told you I could be trusted."

 

He smiles when she looks up at him with watery hopeful eyes. "I'm Phillip, by the way, I am a traveler and the ward of Sir Henry from the kingdom of the King Hubert." He offers her a hand, and she takes it and shakes it. 

 

Behind the pair, the ears of the animals perk up at the mechanical whirring of a compass, buried deep within the pockets of the princeling's trousers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_the liar_

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

"Where are we going?" She asks the stranger. The princess looks around the forest and it's so large and vast, she's reminded of the guilt and fear swirling in her chest and the lie stuck in her throat. She's not sure how's she's going to pull it off. She was never trained in the art of deception even though it's an essential skill that every noble should have. 

 

Despite her inexperience, Aurora was good at spotting lies. She had a sharp eye for tells and a strong memory when it came to details. Her parents were never able to fool her, nor has any other person. Her parents usually had her sit and listen to the people's needs so she could figure out who was truly sincere and in need of help and who was exaggerating for gold. She loved plays though because the actors were talented liars. They made everything feel so real. Maybe because it's purely for entertainment and her guard is down, she can't spot the truth and reality, but she's still the best at picking out frauds throughout the kingdom.

 

She waited for Phillip to answer. He was a strange man for lying. He was sincere and honest, yet the way he introduced himself gave him away. She knew for a fact he was not some ward of Sir Henry because the way he acted and carried himself spoke volumes. He was obviously of higher status, and she could tell that he was a part of the king's guard.

 

"We're heading North," he declares, pointing towards the sun. 

 

She notes his vague reply but she follows him anyways. She trusts him even if he's lying to her since she knows his intentions are pure. Aurora contemplates on apologizing for tying him up against the tree, but she decides against it. What he doesn't know wouldn't kill him.

 

The trek north was a long one. It seems as if they would never leave the woods. She peers over at Phillip and curiously questions, "Don't you have a horse? I find it odd for a traveler to journey without one."

 

He turns to her and regards her with an amused expression. "Why? Tired already, my lady?" 

 

She shrugs, waiting for an answer. He seems to pick up on this so his expression becomes more serious. "I got robbed," he sighs.

 

Aurora pities him. She's heard of ruthless bandits blocking routes and stealing money and property, so she feels horrible for complaining. She decides to comfort him, suddenly remembering the role she's portraying. "Rest assured, I may be a thief but I will not steal from you or anyone else. I promise," she solemnly swears, trying to keep the grin from forming on her face.

 

He chuckles in return, noting her not-so-serious expression. "No offense, my lady, but I don't think you can overpower me so easily."

 

Her expression darkens, expelling challenge from every fiber of her being. "Are you certain, sir? I can be  _very_ persuasive," she coos in his ear as she wanders past him.

 

She sways her hips to prove her point and she giggles demurely, knowing all too well that she's got his attention now. He'll know to be cautious of her, and that's exactly how she wants to rule when she's queen. She wants to be powerful, not weak or small as she's perceived now by being a princess or a lady. Back at the court, the princess had barely started her lessons in the art of seduction, but she's fairly certain she just excelled at it.

 

At the far end of the canopy of trees, she finds an entrance to a large village. She spins around and beckons Phillip to come over. He takes long strides towards her while she sprints to the village.

 

There's so much to see, and Aurora stares in awe. The town is packed with a lot of people and they are all working so hard yet they all work together, smiling as they do so. She's surprised, they look so lively and happy, unlike the vacancies of her castle. It's so lonely and boring in the castle, where here everything is exciting.

 

"You look surprised, Lady Rose! Is it your first time out of town?" Phillip asks softly beside her.

 

She shakes her head. "No, it actually reminds me of home," she lies. "But I'm tired and famished, I think we need to find a tavern to sit and rest."

 

He nods, agreeing. "Let's go." He offers her an arm, and she blankly stares at it. The notion is improper and scandalous, for the two of them who weren't wed to be touching one another so affectionately.

 

He notices her hesitance so he simply offers, "I know it's improper but I'm trying to protect you from other men and their indecencies...Not all of them are young, dashing, and kind like me."

 

She snorts, "I think I can handle myself, but thank you for the offer, Sir Phillip." She walks off to the tavern with her head high and her hips swaying still, and Phillip trails behind her.

 

Inside the tavern, people sing heartily and the liveliness and cheerfulness swells in Aurora's heart. She makes her way to an empty table and a barmaid meets them to take their order. The barmaid winks over at Phillip, and Aurora has to suppress an eye roll.

 

Phillip, completely oblivious, orders a roasted duck for the two of them to share and two mugs of mead. He glances over to Aurora to check for her approval and she nods. Anything sounds delicious about now, especially the duck. She prefers wine but she doesn't know what they regularly serve at a tavern, so she acquiesces to the mead. 

 

After the meal, the pair resumes on the journey. They walk out of the village to the main road. Aurora looks around and glances over at Phillip. "Do you know where we're going?"

 

Phillip pulls out a map from his bag and unfolds it. He squints at it and points in the direction to where she's standing, "We should be heading that way."

 

She stares back, puzzled, while he pulls something else from his bag. A compass with the glass cracked swirls rapidly around and confirms his thoughts. "Yep, that way."

 

Aurora furrows her eyebrows together. "Let me see," she demands.

 

Phillip is a bit reluctant, but Aurora snatches the compass from him. "No, wait," she argues. The compass points behind her. "The compass points this way," she corrects, jutting her thumb out behind her.

 

"What?" Phillip questions. She hands the compass back to him, and Aurora paces back and forth.

 

"That's weird..." He starts, then he looks over at her. "Can you stop moving, Rose?"

 

She stops and stares back at him. His eyes crinkles in deep concentration. After roughly ten minutes, she grows impatient. "So are we going anywhere?" she demands, walking up closer to him to look at the compass, but Phillip moves it away from her.

 

"I'm sorry, Lady Rose, but are you hiding something from me?"

 

She glances at him incredulously. "I beg your pardon?"

 

Phillip is distraught. He watches her every move as if she would act against him, and that offends her.

 

The princess could feel her ears flush red. "You think I'm a liar?" she accuses, her eyes wide and angry.

 

Phillip swallows. "Yes, perhaps."

 

She shakes her head, eagerly continuing, "On what proof?"

 

"This," he explains, holding up the compass. "The compass always points north, however with a star in its presence the compass points to the star instead of dutifully pointing up north because stars are from the skies above."

 

She's not quite following. "So what are you insinuating?"

 

"You," he jabs a finger at her, "You have lied to me about your identity. You're a star, and you're supposed to lead me to the end of my quest."

  

 


End file.
